


while the rhythm of the rain keeps time

by monstermash



Series: kiss your knuckles [1]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, Trans Male Character, V is trans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-12 18:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19234933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstermash/pseuds/monstermash
Summary: “So why‘V?’”





	while the rhythm of the rain keeps time

**Author's Note:**

> i know absolutely nothing about cyberpunk other than what's been shown in trailers and what little can be found on the wiki so my bad if this is wildly ooc lmao. (i'm also just hella gay so...)
> 
> i didn't like that Jackie died (or at least heavily implied to) in the newest trailer, and wasn't really that jazzed about how they handled Dex and T-Bug in the trailer, so i changed all that; Jackie still gets pretty fucked up tho, so he won't show up too much in this series, but Dex and T-Bug weren't the ones waiting for V at the hotel.

It came to an end quietly between them, which was really unusual for his track record; usually, his relationships went out with a bang. Loud, messy spectacles where _something_ would get trashed; Rogue had slashed his tires and Jax had spray painted his apartment.

But then again, Alt always seemed to be the exception and not the rule.

A gentle squeeze of the hand, promises to stay in touch that they both surprisingly keep, a sad yet fond smile as she said goodbye.

He counted the sound of her footsteps as she walked away while the rhythm of the rain kept time.

(And then two years later he started a riot for her. They both died anyway.)

\---

“So why _‘V?’”_

V shrugs and continues pretending to look through the stacks of records in the little pop-up stand while waiting for the mark to show up. Johnny quirks an eyebrow at the surprising quiet from V, who hasn’t really shut up since waking up in that landfill; the only person who’s probably more talkative than V is Jackie, who is still laid up after nearly bleeding out in the backseat of an auto-cab.

Thinking that he won’t get much more of an answer Johnny leans back against counter and watches the crowded side street; it’s not really necessary seeing as how he’s just code and memories now, but since he’s essentially hitching a ride in V’s personal net it’d be bad for the both of them if the mark got the jump on V.

“It’s a nickname,” V finally says after a few more minutes of relative silence between them. “Short for Valentine.”

He’s heard weirder, more ridiculous names than that, but he can’t help himself from replying with a disbelieving, _“Valentine?”_

“Yeah. I chose it, after I ran away.” V lets out a low whistle as he holds up what looks to be a mint condition record from the late 1980s. It’s probably a fake, but the cover art looks near flawless. “It sounded better than sticking with _‘Bridget,’_ anyway.”

There’s a brief pause as Johnny lets this new information sink in, turning his attention from the crowd to V; the man’s shoulders are loose, his posture relaxed. If it weren’t for the slight twitch in his fingers, Johnny might’ve believed it.

“Was it really Bridget?”

There’s an amused huff as V finally glances over at him and cracking a grin.

“Hell no, but you get my point. Not like you can talk, _Silverhand.”_

He finds himself grinning back.

“Fair enough,” he concedes and goes back to keeping an eye out.

\---

The Afterlife hasn’t changed much from when Johnny still had a body.

It’s still operating out of an old run down mortuary, still where most Solos come looking for work – a permanent fixture of Night City that will still be around when the world inevitably sinks.

He finds himself watching the crowd, looking for faces that aren’t around anymore and probably haven’t been for a while. Fifty years is a long time, even if it doesn’t really feel like it to him. When he turns back to see if V has found a gig – V may have agreed to help him, but getting eddies are a main priority for the man, considering how much V owes Victor for letting Jackie recoup in his back alley clinic – there’s a face Johnny hasn’t seen since he had started seeing Alt, way back when.

Even with all the thick knots of scar tissue and without the brightly dyed hair, Johnny would recognize Rogue anywhere; she’s aged well – really well, considering she’s somewhere in her eighties by now – and still looks like she could snap more than half the people here like a twig without breaking a sweat.

Wandering over, Johnny throws an arm over V’s shoulders and listens as V and Rogue hash out the details for a job, carefully watching the way Rogue’s ever present scowl softens ever so slightly at something V is rambling about. A surge of fondness rushes through him; he’s always had a soft spot for Rogue, despite how things ended between them.

\---

To anyone who’s watching, it looks like V is dancing on his own.

To anyone who’s watching closely, it looks like V is dancing with someone who isn’t there.

(But it’s crowded enough that the only people who are really looking anyway are the ones V turns away from when they try to dance with him.)

In a way, he is and he isn’t; V’s dancing with him on the packed dancefloor of Rainbow Nights, all of his attention divided between Johnny and the people coming and going through the revolving VIP door. One of them has something Rogue wants back, so the two of them are killing time, waiting for the thief to show up.

It’s odd to be on this side of things, to be on the dancefloor instead of being up on the stage performing.

But it’s not so strange that it distracts him all that much from the way V moves; V is nothing close to graceful except for when he fights and, apparently, when he dances. Any other time and V is a walking dumpster fire.

A good looking, walking dumpster fire that dances like he was made for it, but still.

Sickly neon green hair paired with an eyesore of an outfit catches his eye and Johnny leans in closer, lips barely brushing against V’s ear as he says, “Time to work, samurai.”

If he still had a pulse Johnny’s pretty sure his heart would be beating down his ribs at the look V gives him before weaving his way through the packed in bodies still dancing around them.

\---

The glow of neon signs pours into the apartment through the windows.

Everything had ended up going to shit pretty quick, which considering where they are, shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise.

V doesn’t bother turning any lights on, opting to stumble in the half dark; he’s lucky he got away with getting stabbed just once and a shit ton of bruises. It could have been much worse.

“Not even a fuckin’ scratch on you, what the fuck,” V grumbles after finally making his way to the tiny bathroom, where there’s a heavy duty med-kit under the sink.

“I’m not actually physically here, remember?” Johnny follows after him. V looks a lot worse in the light, blood smeared across his skin and staining his old, ratty shirt. “Next time someone pulls a knife on you, maybe don’t get stabbed.”

V glares at him in the mirror, his reflection only visible to the two of them, and flips him off before pulling his shirt off. There’s a grunt of pain as he does. Johnny can’t do much else except watch and help point out spots that V misses; they’ve found out through trial and error that Johnny in fact _can_ touch V, but not much else.

Can’t help patch him up, can’t pick up a weapon and have his back in fights where he’s outnumbered.

It feels perilously close to helplessness, the kind he felt after what happened to Alt, but not quite the same; at least she’d been able to escape out into the Net when she died. V doesn’t have that option. If he dies, that’s it.

As much as they can get on each other’s nerves, Johnny really would miss him if V keeled over.

(He will die one day – everyone does – but it isn’t worth thinking about right now.)

Reaching out with one hand, Johnny traces over a few scars that have long since healed over on V’s shoulders, the sensation of touch still that same faint static that’s more of an imitation of pressure than anything else, and studies the ones that are scattered across V’s front; one under each pectoral, three horizontal ones across the stomach, a few burns down the right side of V’s ribs.

“Feeling a bit handsy there?”

Johnny’s eyes look up and meet V’s in the mirror, too much teasing snark for someone covered in this much drying blood. The way V waggles his eyebrows while biting back a laugh is all Johnny needs to see to know that he’s barely holding back a dumb joke.

Rolling his eyes, Johnny gives him a light shove towards the still dark main room.

“Don’t ever become a comedian, you get the shit kicked out of you enough as it is.”

“Hey, my jokes are half of my charm.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

V tries pushing him back, but Johnny catches his hands, holding their intertwined fingers against his chest and enjoying the humming static, admiring the way the neon lights reflect in V’s eyes, and _fuck_ if he wasn’t already pretty gone on him. It’s just unfortunate that the circumstances are what they are; a bio-chip that people have literally killed and died for, Arasaka up to no good yet again, Alt trapped somewhere in the Net.

A cyber-ghost of a long since dead Rockerboy and a Solo who has some seriously shitty luck and timing.

\---

It starts to rain sometime in the early hours of the morning; V’s passed the fuck out and curled into Johnny’s side.

Johnny doesn’t sleep. Doesn’t need to just like he doesn’t need to eat or breathe. So he lays there, always awake and thinking.

He thinks about what needs to be done and listens to V’s heartbeat while the rhythm of the rain keeps time.

**Author's Note:**

> i really hope that [r.e.o. meatwagon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79BkJQ-5r4s) is in cyberpunk 2077 tho (or at least gets mentioned because i just really fuckin love the name). oh and the Kennedy poser gang too, because they honestly do sound legitimately terrifying
> 
> i'd also just like to say, as much as i'd love for johnny silverhand to be a romance option, the whole "there better be sex scenes with keanu" sentiment that seems to be sweeping the internet is really uh... Not Great, y'all. it's wildly disrespectful and inappropriate. please don't @ cdpr on twitter asking/demanding for sex scenes with him. it's creepy af


End file.
